


It's Time To Love

by ezekiels



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezekiels/pseuds/ezekiels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen has returned to the ruins of Camelot upon receiving a message from Morgana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Time To Love

Gwen stood in the courtyard, the ruins of Camelot pressing in on her. The sun had barely risen, casting long dark shadows over a place that had seen so much tragedy and blood. Crows peered down at her from the roof. There was no doubt in Gwen’s mind that those crows were Morgana’s. She knew it as well as she knew that Arthur, Merlin at his side, lay in Avalon.

She moved nervously forward, her old bones aching. 

The long, hard ride to Camelot through now lawless lands had been hard. After Arthur had fallen in battle, not only Camelot but all of Albion had fallen into disarray. If not for Lancelot’s loyalty and Arthur’s love for her, Gwen would never have survived. Now, with Lancelot gone, Gwen relied on those who still thought of her as their rightful Queen. Many had helped her reach the ruins of Camelot’s castle and Gwen had dutifully left them on the outskirts of the lower town. She hoped none had followed for she did not wish them to learn whom she had travelled so far to meet.

Once inside the castle, Gwen made her way towards the throne room, down vine covered corridors and up half-collapsed stairs. The history of the castle pressed in on her, making her old heart ache.

There, by an archway, was where she used to sit with Merlin. They’d talk for hours –him tossing a ball of light from one hand to the other. Gwen would sharpen her dagger as they talked. Merlin always called it Gwen’s secret dagger because Arthur would have taken it from her if he had ever learnt she hid it upon her person at all time. She had it on herself now, concealed beneath her sleeve in case she ever needed to use it.

And there. That was where Arthur had proposed to her, disappearing before Gwen could give him an answer.

Gwen stopped when she saw the doors to the throne room.

And there. That was where Gwen had attacked Morgana when she had come back to Camelot, desperate to know that the rumours were not true because Arthur could not be dead. Morgana had held her by the wrists, saying, “I’m sorry. Gwen, I’m so sorry,” over and over until Gwen collapsed into her arms. She’d cried for what felt like days, Lancelot standing close by, knowing he had to get her as far from Camelot as he could before Mordred’s army took the inner castle but also knowing that Gwen needed this. She needed to know Morgana cared –for Gwen if not Arthur, for Gwen if not Merlin.

Taking a deep breath, Gwen approached the doors and pushed at one of them. It creaked open slowly and she slipped through into the throne room.

Dust covered the floor, along with sections of the roof that had collapsed. No glass sat in the window frames, having been destroyed during the battle long ago. Between the vines covering the ceiling were cobwebs that glistened in the morning light coming through the holes in the roof. Banners and curtains were still hung throughout the throne room but they were faded and thin with age.

At the end of the room were two thrones. There had once been three, when Uther had been king: one for himself, his son, and his ward. These two thrones had been Arthur and Gwen’s and they were as beautiful as she remembered them to be. Merlin had presented them to Arthur and Gwen after their wedding, having crafted them from magic. They looked like two great trees, their branches turning to gold and red. Gwen remembered sitting there, hand in hand with Arthur, and feeling like she was the luckiest woman in the world.

From behind Arthur’s throne, a familiar face appeared. 

Gwen jumped, hand flying up to her chest in fright.

The familiar face smiled. Gwen couldn’t believe it. Morgana hadn’t aged a day since they had last seen each other. Her pale skin was smooth and her black hair was long without a single grey hair.

Gwen touched her grey hair absently, embarrassed. She knew she hadn’t aged all too well. Her face was well wrinkled and thin. The only thing that had not changed about Gwen was her eyes, which were the same shade of brown they had always been.

Morgana stepped out from behind Arthur’s throne. She was dressed in red, a sword with an image of a gold dragon wrapped around the hilt fixed at her waist. Gwen had heard that Morgana had taken to wearing the colours and symbols of the Pendragon family, traveling all over Albion with her story that one day King Arthur would return and unite Albion once again. Gwen had just never quite believed it.

“Gwen,” Morgana said, holding her hands out to her.

Gwen gave her hands to Morgana. It was so natural, even though the hands that took hers were unnaturally young compared to hers. Touching Morgana had always felt so right.

“You look tired,” Morgana said.

“I rode three days straight,” Gwen said. “You’ve never sent for me before. I presumed it was important.”

Morgana smiled sadly down at their hands. “It is important,” she said. “To me, at least.”

Gwen waited.

Taking a deep breath, Morgana said, “For the last forty years, I have been punishing myself. Punishing myself because I made all the wrong choices, because I didn’t know what I wanted. People I love got hurt. Morgause…” She closed her eyes and took a breath.

Gwen had only ever heard stories about Morgause’s last moments. Gwen knew that Mordred had been the one to kill her and Gwen also knew that Morgause had died in Morgana’s arms.

Morgana opened her eyes, tears filling them. “Everything she did was for me and she didn’t even want most of it. When she finally went against me, said what she really thought, that arrogant murderous…” Morgana ground her teeth together, unable to say Mordred’s name.

“I lost everything, Gwen,” Morgana said. “I’m the reason Arthur died. I’m the reason he and Merlin are in eternal slumber in Avalon. I’m the reason hundreds have died. I have been punishing myself for all of this, because it’s my fault. I made all the decisions that lead to it all happening. I destroyed your life, Gwen, and I’m sorry. I took away the only person you had ever truly loved and, for what?” Morgana bowed her head, trying to get control of her sobs in order to keep going.

Gwen squeezed Morgana’s hands reassuringly.

If only Morgana knew that Gwen’s heart had always belonged to her –no matter how much she had loved Arthur, no matter how much she still loved Arthur. Morgana had always been it for Gwen. Always.

Taking a deep breath, Morgana went on. “I did it because I was naïve and angry. I did it because I hated Merlin and Uther. I did it because I loved you and I knew there was no way I could ever compete with Arthur in your eyes.”

Gwen stared at Morgana in shock.

Morgana loved her?

“I’ve been punishing myself for all of these things I’ve done but I don’t even feel like that person anymore,” Morgana said. “That Morgana, she feels like a completely different person to me. Me, here, now, with you, she’s the real me. And every day I wonder why I couldn’t have realised this earlier. So many people who should be here today would be. Albion would be a land of peace instead of what it is now. You would have your Arthur and Merlin would be my friend and maybe even Morgause would be here, on our side.

“But I know that Morgana I was… She is still a part of me, no matter how much I wish she wasn’t,” Morgana said. “And I’ve been punishing myself but I can’t take it anymore, Gwen. I’ve lived too long and I’ll keep living and I can’t do that if I don’t know if you forgive me for all I’ve done. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I doubt I ever will but I just need to know, one way or the other, so that I can stop all these questions in my head, all of them about you. I just want it to stop, Gwen. So, please, Gwen, tell me the truth. Please.”

“Morgana,” Gwen said, “I have already forgiven you. I could never not forgive you. You know that, don’t you?” 

Morgana burst into a whole new wave of tears, clinging to Gwen’s hands. Gwen pulled Morgana towards her, taking Morgana in her arms. “And if everything had gone as it should have,” Gwen whispered in her ear, “I would be yours, Morgana, not Arthur’s or anyone else’s. I’d always be yours. Always.”

Morgana’s tears turned to laughter and she pulled Gwen even tighter against her. Gwen winced, her old bones aching, but she didn’t say anything. She had waited so long to be held like this by Morgana, for more years than Arthur had loved her or Morgana had waited for Gwen’s forgiveness. Nothing compared to it and it was worth every pain and year.

Pulling away, Morgana wiped her tears away with an embarrassed laugh. “Why am I not stunned that it took this many years for us to say all of this?” Morgana asked.

Gwen grinned at her. “Because we’re hopeless.”

Morgana grinned back at her in return and touched Gwen’s cheek gently. Her smile softened as she ran her thumb along Gwen’s cheek. “You’re still beautiful, even with all of these wrinkles,” Morgana said.

Gwen blushed. “I don’t feel beautiful,” she said.

“But you are,” Morgana assured.

“Tell that to my back problems,” Gwen said.

Morgana laughed. Smiling, she said, “Do you want to see something truly amazing?”

Gwen narrowed her eyes at Morgana. “You’re about to show off, aren’t you?

“Yes, but I’m not doing this just to show off,” Morgana said.

“What are you doing to do?” Gwen asked.

Morgana smiled. “Bring hope back to the people of Camelot and send Mordred running away, quivering in his oversized boots.”

Gwen couldn’t help but laugh, only half-aware that Morgana was taking a step away from her. Morgana held both of her hands up on either side of her and closed her eyes. Gwen’s laugh faded as she watched Morgana and the intensity of her focus. Morgana’s eyes opened and she began speaking, her eyes shining with gold.

Around her, the castle began to shift and change. The damage began to fade, returning every aspect of the throne room back to its former glory. Stain-glass windows faded into existence in the window frames. The rubble on the floor lifted up and rose to fill in the holes in the ceiling. Cobwebs and vines retreated, revealing the throne room’s rightful beauty. The banners and curtains fell from where they hung, bursting into rose petals that settled on the ground. New banners and curtains unrolled, perfect and bright red. Gwen laid a hand over her heart as she saw the yellow of the dragon on the banners shine. The dust disappeared from the floor in a gust of wind that made Gwen laugh, grabbing the sides of her dress to stop it from flying up.

Gwen let out a delighted gasp then as the dress she was wearing changed beneath her fingers. The old rags she had been wearing were replaced with a beautiful purple gown. Unable to help herself, Gwen twirled around in her new gown and… Gwen stopped and lifted up the front of her dress a little. She laughed when she saw she had on beautiful new shoes, studded with fine purple gems. She began to twirl around once more, feeling like a young girl again.

Coming to a dizzy stop, still laughing, Gwen looked at Morgana. Morgana’s eyes were still golden but her hands were lowering. Gwen watched the gold fade from Morgana’s eyes, returning them to the blue Gwen was so very fond of.

When she saw Gwen, Morgana smiled and caught her hands. “Gwen, you…” She laughed. “I had almost forgotten what you looked like!”

Gwen’s brows pulled together in confusion.

Morgana touched her cheek lovingly and even though it was Morgana’s fingers touching her cheek, Gwen could feel it. There were no longer wrinkles on her face –on any of her.

Stepping away from Morgana, Gwen ran to one of the stain glass windows. She stopped before it and gaped at her young reflection. She touched her face in disbelief, half expecting it to be wrinkled and rough. Her skin was smooth and she was no longer deathly thin. Her hair was still long but it was brown now rather than grey.

She caught sight of Morgana’s reflection in the stain glass window and turned. “How did you do this?” Gwen asked in awe.

“Magic,” Morgana said. “I have to admit though,” she said, reaching out to touch Gwen’s cheek, “this probably wasn’t as noble as everything else I just did.”

Gwen smiled. “The throne room is beautiful.”

Morgana grinned. “Oh, it wasn’t just the throne room.”

At Gwen’s confused look, Morgana took her by the wrist. “Come on,” she said and took off running, pulling Gwen behind her.

The moment Gwen was outside of the throne room, she saw. The corridors were no longer in ruin but possibly even grander than they had been before. Gwen and Morgana ran straight passed open chambers that had been fully restored to their greatness, some of them with baths filled with hot rose-scented water. The stairways had banners hanging from the walls, in fact, on most available surfaces there hung Camelot’s banner.

When they reached a dark spiral staircase that would lead them to the top of one of the towers, Gwen noticed that torches were lit and reflected off white stone. The staircases had never been so grand before and it made Gwen laugh, running her hands along the wall and she ran after Morgana.

They reached the door at the top of the staircase and burst out into fresh air. Morgana and Gwen fell against the stone edge together.

That was when Gwen saw, in all its glory, what Morgana had done.

All of castle had been restored, as had the upper and lower town. The woods beyond that Mordred had burnt to the ground were now alive and lush with life. In the morning light, Gwen was certain she had never seen anything so beautiful.

Morgana nudged Gwen playfully. “Imagine the look on Mordred’s face when he sees this.” 

Gwen grinned and turned to Morgana. “You are such a show off sometimes.”

“Oh, always, my queen,” Morgana said and she stole a kiss from Gwen’s lips. A kiss Gwen knew she would be sharing with Morgana the rest of her life –however long that may be.


End file.
